Yes, I’ve got it! And I’ve got it IN TEH BACK!
Right now when I’m writing this, sitting upright for the first time in two days, I’ve got a plank tied to the body just to keep it straight. My elbow hurts. It’s got the flu. The backside of my knees hurts. They’ve got the flu too. But most prominently I’ve got the back-flu. Terrible thing. I was so young.
The back flu is the flu only in the back.
Lady C just returned from the doctor and she had the flu. Serious case, she’s ice-cold sweating and babbling like an idiot. Being that I’m in her close physical proximity and can barely keep my head up, I infer that I’ve got the same thing, but affected differently. I fell into a coma-like sleep where I dreamed of being trapped in a nachspiel. It was awful.
The story didn’t go something like this, it went exactly like this:
I was standing on the shore of a city known as Oslo only that it was completely transformed into a city on the west coast of Norway. This didn’t baffle me at all. What did, however, was the GIANT crazy ass FANTA CRUISE SHIP coming in at 100 knots to the city docks, doing a turn like a car in a pile of snow. Just didn’t make sense that it should work. Another much smaller boat, akin to those old steamers in the cartoons, tried the same and sank. All the captain said, having swum all the way from the boat to the shore, was "Guess it didn’t work" with a goofy smile on his face.
Then we, that is me, Kornelius and the mysterious Mr. S AND/OR Koew, were going to a Kaada concert downtown. At least I think it was Kaada. We were heading for a vorspiel first to have a few beers before the concert, but when we got there – there being a shabby house in the outskirts – the vorspiel was more of a nachspiel since they were all smoking dope and eating cookies.
Someone of us knew somebody in there, but the whole place reeked of doobies, in a upper-middle class setting similar to the smokers in Homegrown (starring Billy Bob Thornton and Jon Bon Jovi among others). All I wanted was to get out of there. It was pretty clear they didn’t have any beer.
Probably because we refused to smoke, we were going up and not down, we were perceived as somewhat suspicious. There was a tacit air of threat in the air of marijuana. People were crowding us, and before we know we had broken into a Fine National Museum of Culinary Arts where they broke down a few doors to get us cheese and wine. We were forced to eat and drink just to persuade these threatening stoners that we weren’t cops. Allthewhile knowing we were never gonna see the Kaada concert.
Nothing of this makes any sense. The dream really didn’t go anywhere and I woke up in a sweaty curl. And now my teeth aches. This flu attacks the bones, apparently. Everything’s colored with a hint of dull ache. Effin’ tooth flu. I’m going back to bed.